


Home Is Where The Heart Is

by SpiritMuse



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Crying, Gen, Grief, Loss, because apparently that's my thing now xD, poor iggy :c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-06 14:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11602809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritMuse/pseuds/SpiritMuse
Summary: Ignis wasn't nearly as ok as he pretended to be. No one could lose their home, their family, and be that unmoved.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first multi chapter fic. :D Some chapters are shorter than others though, I'm terrible at being consistent. XD

Ignis wasn't nearly as ok as he appeared to be, Prompto was sure of it. Partly because there was just no way he could be. Nobody could lose their home, their family, and be that unmoved. Well, unless they were psycho or something but Ignis definitely wasn't that. 

The other reason was that Ignis was annoyed more often than usual. He tried to hide it but Prompto had learned the signs. Ignis was kind of an intimidating person, and at first Prompto had been convinced the Advisor was annoyed with him all the time. But when he'd confessed his worry to Noctis, his friend had laughingly told him he had nothing to worry about, that was just Ignis' face.

Still. Prompto had taken extra care to learn the difference. Learned when Ignis was genuinely irritated and when it was 'just his face'.

He glanced over to Ignis, who was driving the car right now. He was staring straight ahead, hands wrapped tightly around the wheel, expression blank except for the slight frown he naturally had. He was too quiet. Of course, Ignis was always quiet, but normally he moved, looking around every so often, leaning his arm on the side of the car, stuff like that. Ignis enjoyed driving and it showed (some of Prompto's favourite pictures of Ignis were ones he'd snapped while in the car - Ignis would be relaxed and smiling a bit and that was rare). But now he was still like a statue and it was just wrong. 

Prompto studied his face for a moment, trying not to be too obvious about it. Ignis looked calm on the surface, as he always did, but there it was - the slight pop of his jaw muscle.

Afraid of getting caught staring, Prompto turned to the other side and, maybe a bit too casually, leaned his arms on the side of the car, looking out at the landscape steadily rolling by.

Seeing Ignis like this made him more than a little anxious. He'd taken a lot of comfort from Ignis' calm, steady presence these past few weeks. The loss of his parents, his home, had been really difficult, even though he worked hard to pretend otherwise. He loved his parents, even though he didn't see as much of them as he would have liked. They worked long hours because they loved him and wanted to provide for him, so he didn't mind it too much that they often didn't get home until late at night and he had to cook and eat by himself most days. 

(Sometimes when he was feeling confident he made enough for three and left them their food in the fridge. He'd always gotten extra hugs and kisses from his mom for that.)

But now that they were gone, he just couldn't find the energy or motivation to really eat anymore. At least, not anything that wasn't snacks or candy.

So he was (secretly) very grateful for Ignis' cooking and insistence they all eat properly, even if it took Prompto practically forever to finish his food (it helped that it was some of the best food he'd ever had). His insistence that they go to bed on time instead of staying up way too late playing King's Knight Prompto didn't like quite as much, but it was somehow comforting all the same.

But it was definitely taking its toll on Ignis. He was starting to get short tempered. Or, what passed for short tempered with Ignis, anyway. He was acting weird just a little and it was kind of scary.

(It half reminded Prompto of those movies where it was the quiet, unassuming guy you barely noticed who in the end would suddenly snap and murder half the cast or something. Or turned out to be the vicious serial killer all along. It was always the quiet ones you had to look out for, wasn't it?)

Mulling all these things over, Prompto watched a side road pass by and idly followed it with his eyes.

Wait.

Wasn't that the road they needed to take? Prompto wasn't the best at geography but he was pretty sure they should have turned just then. He looked back at Ignis, who was still staring blankly ahead. It wasn't like him to miss a turn.

"Uh, Ignis?" Prompto said hesitantly, "Wasn't that supposed to be our turn?"

Prompto felt himself pitch forward just a bit as Ignis tapped the brake before his head jerked towards Prompto.

"What?"

The confusion and alarm in his eyes were so unnatural. Ignis wasn't supposed to look like that. Prompto swallowed nervously.

"Back there, weren't we supposed to turn into there?"

The car slowed down as Ignis turned to look behind them, then turned back with an irritated huff. 

"You're right," he said tersely, then slowed the car even more before steering into a u-turn smooth enough that it woke neither Noct nor Gladio.

Prompto was a bit stunned by the whole sequence of events and didn't quite know what to think. Ignis never screwed this up. Except he had, just now. 

"You ok?" he asked timidly.

"Yes, I'm fine," Ignis sighed as he readjusted his glasses, "I was merely a bit... distracted. It's nothing to concern yourself with."

Clearly that was all Ignis wanted to say on the matter, so Prompto shut up and went back to leaning out the side of the car, staring at the scenery. He had to let Noct know about this later when they arrived and he was awake again, even though Ignis would probably not like it.

Not that Prompto couldn't keep a secret. He could keep a secret very well if he had to. This was just, in his opinion, not a secret that should be kept (and it wasn't as if Ignis had actually sworn him to secrecy, anyway).


	2. Chapter 2

Ignis wasn't one to get homesick. He wasn't one to miss people when they weren't around. It wasn't that he didn't care - it was simply how his mind worked. He dealt with who was in front of him and didn't spend a lot of time thinking about who wasn't, unless there was specific reason to. Noctis had asked him more than once if he missed his parents after he'd been moved to the Citadel. The prince had always found it hard to understand that he didn't.

And it wasn't as if he'd been forbidden from seeing them. Of course, as a child he had less freedom to travel, and his packed school schedule left him little time most days, but every now and again there would be a free week and his parents would send a car to come pick him up. He'd spend days with them, talking about anything and everything, stories about what he'd been up to, learning what they had been doing.

Yet he'd always found himself more eager to return to Noctis' side than he was to visit his parents.

As he got older, he had even less free time to see them, even though he could now drive himself out whenever he wished. He spent a day here, an evening there with his parents, but they grew few and far between. It didn't bother him. He loved them, of course he did. They had never been anything but good to him. Supportive, especially in the early years. They simply weren't a very big part of his life, and he was fine living without them.

But now that they were truly gone, he was surprised to find how much it affected him. He felt as if the floor had tilted out from under him. As if gravity had shifted and he was scrabbling to regain his balance. Everything felt ever so slightly _wrong_ with no way to make it right again.

He hadn't realised just how much comfort he'd derived from the knowledge that they were _there_ until they weren't. How much security from the knowledge that he _could_ go home until he couldn't. It was as if there was a hole somewhere in the back of his mind where there used to be a solid wall to lean on.

He found it a little more difficult each day to get up in the morning. To muster the energy for breakfast. To keep his attention on the road. To come up with something for dinner. It was as if the air was filled with a thick miasma that slowed his movements and clouded his thoughts.

Yet he soldiered on regardless, because his friends had needed him to. He pushed it all away to appear solid and stable and dependable, because in their grief they needed _someone_ to lean on.

"Seafood risotto again?" Noct interrupted his musings.

Ignis' hands stilled. He realised he was indeed making risotto. In his distraction he had chosen the dish almost without thinking. He scrabbled a moment to collect his thoughts.

"Yes," Ignis replied, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "It's an easy recipe, and the seafood is perishable so we'd best use it before it spoils."

It wasn't exactly a lie. Seafood was perishable, though it would keep a little bit longer yet. And while risotto wasn't the easiest of rices to cook - it required a lot of care and attention if one wanted to do it properly - he had made this particular recipe enough times that he could probably make it blind. It was one of the few foods he would make for himself at home.

"I guess so." Noctis didn't seem entirely convinced by the answer. He watched Ignis a few moments. "What's wrong?" It didn't really sound like a question.

Everything. Everything was wrong. For the past few weeks he'd been treading water in the middle of a storm, doing anything he could to keep the water from engulfing him as he tirelessly worked to see his companions safely to shore. But his arms and legs were getting heavy. Today he'd let his head dip under the surface for the first time.

He couldn't tell Noct that, of course. Noct needed him to be ok. Noct needed him to be strong, dependable. Solid as a rock. He could never know that the rock was starting to show cracks.

"Nothing's wrong," Ignis said. 

Noct wasn't buying it. "It's not like you to make the same food three nights in a row, spoilage or not. And you missed a turn today," he pointed out. Ignis closed his eyes and sighed. It had been too much to hope that Noct wouldn't find out. He had been sleeping in the back of the car at the time, but of course Prompto had told him.

"I... may be a bit more tired than I've let on," he admitted eventually.

It wasn't exactly a lie. He was tired. Far more thoroughly than he could ever let Noct know. The long car rides, in particular, were murder on him. It wasn't so bad when the radio was on or the others were chattering away about something or other. It was usually quite entertaining to listen to. But when Noctis was asleep and Gladio was reading one of his books and Prompto was idly fiddling with his phone or staring out at the landscape and there was nothing else to occupy his mind, that's when the daemons started coming out. He would find his hands clamped around the steering wheel far more tightly than was necessary, his shoulders protesting from the tension.

And then there was the lack of true privacy. As much as he might enjoy the company of friends, the presence of other people eventually wore on him even at the best of times. He needed time alone to recharge. To truly relax. But with their unexpectedly extended road trip, that kind of space was practically nonexistent. The constant presence of other people, however good friends they were, was stifling. It made his skin crawl with restlessness and it was slowly but surely wearing him down. He found himself just a little bit less patient than normal, a little more snappish than he should be. 

Noct would probably have noticed had he not been so preoccupied with his own grief. But that was how Ignis wanted it - Noct didn't need to be burdened by anyone else's problems on top of his own. 

Neither did the other two, for that matter. He wasn't too concerned about Prompto, despite his mishap earlier today. The boy had a talent for moodmaking, but he and Ignis weren't nearly close enough friends that he would be able to determine Ignis' more subtle moods. Gladio, however... Gladio just might notice. Gladio knew him just well enough, and he was not quite so easily swept away by emotions. 

Part of him wanted Gladio to notice. Wanted _someone_ to notice.

"Then maybe you should take it easy and make it an early night for once," Noct suggested.

"And leave the three of you unsupervised?" It was a poor attempt at deflection and they both knew it.

"Come on. You're always the last to go to bed and the first one up in the mornings. You've gotta need more sleep than that."

"If you recall, I've always needed less sleep than most," Ignis pointed out.

"Yeah but that was back home when we didn't have to fight for our lives on a daily basis."

A pang of loss shot through Ignis' chest at the mention of home. He only barely managed to suppress a reaction. Dammit. This was entirely the wrong line of conversation for him to deal with right now.

"Prompto told me the other day that he sleeps more now than he used to. I can't imagine it'd be much different for you. Plus you just told me you were tired."

Ignis couldn't argue with that. Well, he could have, if he'd had the energy to.

"Very well," he acquiesced, "if my prince wishes it, how can I say no?"

So after dinner, Ignis left the dishes to Gladio and Prompto. They would do a good enough job, knowing from experience that Ignis' threats to serve them nothing but dry toast if they didn't were not at all idle.

He relaxed in his folding chair for a while, until Noctis started giving him pointed looks. He sighed, then got to his feet.

"Alright, Noct, I'll go," he said, trying not to sound irritable. He'd go to bed if that was what Noctis wanted, even if he wasn't expecting to actually sleep for hours yet.

Prompto turned around, drying cloth in his hand.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed."

"Wait, you're going to sleep early? You?" he sounded almost comically incredulous. Ignis wanted, for a moment, to give Prompto a glare for betraying his mistake to Noctis, but of course the boy hadn't actually done anything wrong. Ignis hadn't explicitly sworn him to secrecy, after all.

"His Highness' orders," he replied dryly.

"Wow, so he does get to tell you what to do sometimes after all," the boy grinned mischievously.

Ignis gave him a Look.

"Don't think you can get away with staying up late just because I'm turning in early. I'm a light sleeper. I'll know," he said sternly and turned to disappear into the tent, ignoring Prompto's theatrically disappointed expression.

After he'd made himself comfortable, he opened up a simple word search game on his phone. Looking at lit up phone screens was supposed to keep you awake, but Ignis found playing this game helped him fall asleep. It wasn't difficult enough to require his full attention, but it was engaging enough to occupy his mind and keep it away from less desirable avenues of thought.

When he felt his eyes drooping closed he turned off the screen, put the phone down at his head end, next to his glasses, and allowed himself to doze.

He never noticed the others turning in for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but sweet. <3

The first thing Ignis noticed out of the ordinary was that Juliana wasn't rushing to meet him at the door with a big warm smile to welcome him home and take his shoes and coat. But he thought little of it - she was likely busy with extra work in the kitchen. It was about that time and it wasn't every day that the son of the Count and Contessa Scientia visited home.

As he hung up his coat, he realised it was quiet. Too quiet. There wasn't a single noise. No background buzz from the servants, no music faintly wafting from the drawing room. It was eerie. 

His shoes sounded too loud on the parquet floor as he made his way to the drawing room. He found it empty. Where was everyone? If this was a joke it wasn't very funny. And really, they knew how he hated surprises.

He walked through to the sitting room, only to find it empty as well. Dread settled slowly in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

Rushing into the next room he came to a sudden halt as he found it was a ruin. The dread bloomed into full blown fear that made his blood run cold and prickled in his fingers. His hand slipped off the door handle as the door tipped and fell flat as if it had never been attached in the first place. Ignis whipped around to find the room he'd just left also in rubble. The whole house was a ruin, the roof replaced by a starless night.

Panic gripped him by the throat until he could barely breathe.

He desperately started roaming what was left of the house. Room after room in ruins, walls crumbling, furniture cracked and broken. Burnt.

Then he saw it. A high heeled boot sticking out from under a slab of stone. His mother's boot. He rushed over and tried to lift the rock off her, hoping against hope that she might still be alive somehow. It was heavy, but with desperate strength he finally managed to flip it over.

A skinless skull grinned back at him. Ignis stumbled back. He covered his face with his hands in an attempt to stifle his screaming.

There was a shock and suddenly he was on his back, staring up at the darkness, breathing hard. It took a few moments for his panic to subside and he realized he was looking up at the roof of a tent. He heard a calm, slow breathing next to him. Gladio. And Noctis on his other side. They were asleep.

He rubbed his face with his hands as the tension slowly drained out of him. He was safe. And then the truth behind the nightmare set in and he couldn't fully suppress a sob as his chest constricted with the knowledge that his family was truly gone.

He breathed deeply, carefully, shielding his face with his hands, trying to quietly work through the urge to cry. But he couldn't swallow away the lump in his throat that made his breathing ragged and uneven, and he couldn't stop the tears from leaking out of his eyes. His breath hitched and another barely strangled sob escaped him before he knew it. He needed to get out of here before he woke the others.

He sat up and took a moment to orient himself in the darkness. He quietly slipped on his shoes, not bothering to tie them at all. Out of habit he grabbed his phone and spectacles before he carefully crawled out of the tent opening. Fortunately it was a relatively warm night so they had left it open. The noise of the zipper would almost certainly have woken up Gladio, at the very least. 

In the low blue glow from the Haven's runes he crept as far away from the tent as he could without leaving the safety of the magically warded platform, and sat down at the very edge of the rock, his back turned to the tent. It wasn't much but the distance would muffle the worst of the noise while he worked to get himself under control again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the lovely comments so far. <3

Gladiolus wasn't a light sleeper, exactly. But strange, out of the ordinary noises had a way of waking him up. 

And a sob was definitely out of the ordinary. Especially when it came from this close.

He became aware of Ignis breathing raggedly next to him. He carefully opened his eyes and peeked. In the darkness he could just see that Ignis was covering his face with his hands. Another quiet sob escaped him, though he was clearly trying to hold it in. Gladio felt a pang in his heart. He knew Ignis liked to play the stoic, that he was much more affected by it all than he seemed. But seeing first hand evidence of just _how much_ he was hurting...

His own father's death had been hard on him, and not knowing what had happened to Iris had been worse. He'd felt like rushing right back into Insomnia to either find her or kill all the Nifs responsible for her death. But he knew he couldn't do that, he had to stay with Noctis instead. So he'd quietly seethed inside his own mind while Ignis had calmly driven them all back to Hammerhead. When threats crossed their path he'd fought hard bordering on reckless, leaving room for little in his mind but Noctis and revenge. He'd almost butted heads with Ignis who just carried on like none of it bothered him and uncompromisingly made them all eat properly every day. Made them all at least try to go to sleep at a decent hour instead of sitting aimlessly around the fire all night wishing death on every goddamn Nif in the whole of Eos.

He was long past being upset with him now, though. He understood what Ignis had been doing. The advisor had made himself their pillar of support, taking care of them when they'd been too much in shock to do it themselves. But the pillar was cracking. Gladio had suspected it, of course, but now he knew for sure.

He wanted to reach out to try and comfort his hurting friend, but he stopped himself. Iggy was a private person, he would hate knowing he'd been seen in a vulnerable moment like this.

When Ignis pushed himself up, Gladio quickly closed his eyes and pretended he was still asleep. He waited quietly until he heard Ignis leave the tent. Then he opened his eyes again and stared into the darkness. Noctis, on the other side of Ignis, was still fast asleep, as was Prompto beyond him.

Gladio listened for the telltale creak of someone sitting down in one of the folding chairs, but it never came. Nor was there any other sound. What was Ignis doing? He hadn't left the campsite, had he? No, he wouldn't. Iggy was smarter than to needlessly put himself in danger like that.

He picked up his phone to check the time, squinting against the light of the screen. 4:37 am. It would be dawn soon, but there was time enough for a little more sleep. Iggy wouldn't want to be intruded on, and Gladio was confident he wouldn't get himself into any trouble.

That was, of course, when his bladder made itself known.

There was no way he would be getting back to sleep like this. But he couldn't leave the tent so soon after Ignis, because Ignis would know why he was awake. So he waited a few long, torturous minutes, before finally sitting up somewhat more noisily than he would normally have done. He didn't want to startle Ignis.

He shuffled into his boots before crawling out of the tent. Between the stars and the quietly glowing runes of the Haven, there was just enough light to make out Ignis sitting at the edge of the rock, as far away from the tent as possible. Ah. That explained the lack of noise.

He was torn. Should he acknowledge Ignis' presence? Or would that just make things awkward? Then Ignis took the choice away from him.

"Morning," he said, his back turned and his voice sounding deceptively light.

"Morning," Gladio grunted in reply. "Gotta take a leak," he added before almost hastily making his way off the rock.

He walked a few steps away, just far enough to be watering a nearby bush.

When he was finished, he started back, then hesitated. Should he approach Ignis? He wanted to. He couldn't bear the thought of not doing something while a dear friend was hurting. But how to approach him?

It wasn't like with Noctis. When something was bothering the prince it was usually a matter of challenging him, antagonising him, goading him on until he either got his act together or spilled the beans so they could work it out. But with Ignis it didn't work like that. Ignis didn't rise to bait that way. And Ignis was much more private, less keen on people trying to pry into his business. Far less quick to trust.

Ignis had been raised among politicians, in a world of posturing and backstabbing, where even the people who were supposedly on your side couldn't always be trusted. It was a world Gladio disliked vehemently and preferred to deal with as little as possible. But Ignis was suffused with it, and it shaped who he was. As a result, trying to get close to Ignis was a bit like trying to approach a wild cat. He kept people at arm's length, didn't share of himself easily, and if you crossed his boundaries he would push back hard and close himself off to you even more. 

There had been some difficulty between them at first, mostly due to Gladio's boisterous nature and crossing of said boundaries. Over time, he had found the best way was to reach out half way and then wait for Ignis to decide to approach him. Slowly, Ignis had started, on occasion, to confide in him. He usually talked of his trouble with Noctis, almost but not quite asking for advice that Gladio was only too happy to give. Eventually, once or twice, he'd let slip something a little more personal.

There were a lot of things about Ignis Gladio was sure he'd never know. Things Ignis would share with no one but Noctis. Things he would share with no one at all. 

But there were also those rare occasions when he would share something with Gladio alone. Usually because he didn't want Noctis to worry about him. Which was stupid, in Gladio's opinion, though he never said it anymore. Noctis would worry regardless, even if he didn't let on. They all would. That's just what friends did.

Gladio came to a decision and climbed back onto the rock, walking across the campsite to approach Ignis. He noticed the other man's shoulders tense as he came closer. Without a word, he sat down at the edge of the rock, his feet hanging down. Not so close that he would intrude on Ignis' space, but close enough that it was clearly an offer of companionship, should the other man choose to accept it. Reach out half way, and wait. 

For a long time, neither man spoke. Gladio waited patiently, keeping his eyes away from Ignis so he wouldn't see anything Ignis didn't want him to. He leaned back on his hands and looked up at the sky. There was a slight haze of morning blue near the horizon, but the stars were still easily visible where they peeked through the clouds.

"You're up early," came Ignis' voice finally. It sounded carefully neutral.

"So are you," he replied easily.

"I'm always up early."

"Not this early."

Ignis didn't reply.

"What's up?" Gladio ventured.

"Nothing." It was a lie, and they both knew it. Gladio patiently waited for the truth.

Finally, he heard Ignis sigh.

"I... had a nightmare." 

Gladio looked over at Ignis for the first time since he'd sat down. Ignis sat with his elbows leaning on his knees, his head downcast. His face was shrouded in darkness. He looked so perfectly miserable that Gladio automatically reached out a hand to his shoulder.

The next thing Gladio knew he was pitching sideways and the wind was knocked out of him as he hit the ground hard. He blinked to get his bearings, and he saw Ignis quietly dropping down next to him.

"Are you alright?" Ignis asked worriedly, "I'm sorry, I didn't intend to..."

Gladio shook his head as he pushed himself up from the ground.

"I'm alright. I should have known better, really. Though actually throwing me off the rock might have been a bit overkill." The attempt at lightheartedness fell flat, judging by Ignis' expression.

Ignis didn't say anything more and instead sat down heavily, his back against the rock. Gladio moved to sit down next to him. He ended up closer than before. Maybe a little too close. But Ignis didn't seem to care, if he even noticed.

"Wanna talk about it?" Gladio tried.

Ignis remained silent. Clearly he wasn't interested in talking. Gladio hadn't really expected him to.

"What can I do to help?," he asked instead, "What do you need?"

"I'm fine."

Gladio raised an eyebrow. "That why you pitched me off the rock just for touching you? Come on, Iggy. It's me."

Ignis sighed and rubbed his face.

"I need privacy."

Ah. 

"Sorry."

"No, it's..." Ignis shook his head. "I need more than I could ever get at camp. I need to be alone."

Of course. Ignis had always valued his alone time. He was one of those people with an overactive mind who needed time alone to recharge. And Gladio realized he hadn't really had any since their trip began.

"Then we get you some alone time," he said decisively, "Next time we stay at a motel you'll have your own room."

"We can't afford that," Ignis protested.

"Yeah we can. We'll just do some extra hunting. Hell, I'll run a hunt alone if I have to. It's good money."

"You really don't need to-"

"Yes, we do," Gladio interrupted him, "You're important to us. Let us do this for you."

"I don't think you should be making decisions on behalf of-"

"Iggy, please." Gladio sighed, racking his brain for some way to convince the stubborn man. "Listen. You do about half of everything we do, especially now. That means you're our most valuable asset. And, well, valuable assets are worth investing in."

Ignis didn't immediately respond, and stayed silent for what seemed like way too long. Glancing over, Gladio realized the man was shaking beside him. Then Ignis erupted in a barely smothered laughter that hissed through his teeth.

"What's funny?" Gladio wasn't quite sure what was going on.

"That sounded so utterly unlike you," Ignis said with a smile in his voice, then grew quiet again, though the tension seemed to have drained out of him a little.

"Very well, I suppose I'll have to accept your offer. I have a feeling you'd get the room either way."

Gladio laughed. He probably would have. "You know me so well."

"And you... know me better than most," Ignis said quietly.

The two sat in companionable silence and watched the dawn slowly breaking. Suddenly Ignis grabbed his phone and manipulated something on the screen.

"It's nearly time to start breakfast. Since you're up, want to give me a hand?"

"You sure you want me to? I'm not exactly experienced in the kitchen."

"You can handle a knife, can't you?"

"Of course."

"Then we should be fine."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The trouble with having most of the chapters written already is that I'm terribly impatient to post it. XD

Noctis really should have seen it. Well, he had, kind of. He'd known Ignis practically all his life, he could tell when something was wrong. Maybe not immediately, Ignis was very good at pretending he was fine, but he could usually tell long before anyone else noticed.

And now something was wrong. Something was wrong with all of them, of course, but Ignis had initially seemed unaffected. He'd appeared to shake off the events and losses as if it meant nothing at all and simply carried on as normal when their whole world was turned upside down and inside out.

The loss of his father had hit Noctis hard. It was something he had feared all his life. Something he'd never wanted to think about, to the point of deliberately shirking his duties as prince because he couldn't deal with he idea that he was essentially preparing for his father's death. For so long it had hung over his head, like the sword of Damocles. And now it had finally happened.

And Ignis had just carried on as normal. Noctis had been angry at him, at first. How could he just act like nothing was wrong? How could he just calmly drive his father's car and cook his food like always and tell him to go to bed at a decent hour like he was 14 again?

But once his anger dissipated he'd started to lean on him, clinging to that small measure of comfort brought by those familiar foods and those familiar words and that familiar exasperated little sigh when he refused to go to sleep. He was immensely grateful that Ignis was steady as a rock, always knowing what to do, utterly unflappable and unaffected in the face of their crazy upside down world.

Of course, that hadn't exactly been the truth. Ignis was not unaffected, of course he wasn't. He wasn't made of stone even though he pretended to be, and he felt the pain and grief too, even if he was so good at hiding it that Prompto had actually noticed before Noctis had. Although, admittedly, Ignis taking a wrong turn was kind of hard to miss. When you were awake, at least.

But when he'd confronted Ignis, Ignis had lied and told him he was simply tired and Noctis had been too wrapped up in his own grief to do anything but take his word for it.

When Gladio ordered an extra one person room at the motel, separated from their other room, Noctis could kick himself for forgetting something so essential. He'd known since they were kids that Ignis needed his time alone, especially in stressful times, and these times were nothing if not stressful.

On top of all the pain and grief for their lost home and families, the constant being around other people must have worn on him, but Ignis - loyal, dutiful, self-sacrificing, _stupid_ Ignis - had not said a word. It wasn't often that the word stupid could be applied to Ignis, but Noctis thought it apt in this case. Because Ignis had just _stupidly_ suffered in silence when he didn't have to.

After Prompto had run excitedly to find their room, eager for real beds, with Gladio on his heels, Ignis was left examining the key to his own room, his travel bag hoisted on his shoulder. Noctis decided he needed to say something, even though he still wasn't quite sure what.

"Specs..."

Ignis turned without hesitation. Noctis looked at him, and he could see the tiredness in his posture now.

"What is it, Noct?"

"I..." how did he even start? "I'm stupid," he said.

Ignis raised his eyebrows in surprise, but didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry," Noctis continued, "I'm a blind idiot. I never realized how long it's been since you had time to yourself."

A gentle smile appeared on Ignis' lips. 

"It's alright, Noct." 

"No, it's not. It's like I just forgot everything about you. I'm sorry."

Ignis dropped his bag on the ground next to him and closed the short distance between them, a comforting hand landing softly on Noctis' shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before falling away again. His eyes were tired but warm.

"It's fine, really. You've had more than enough of your own problems to deal with. It's completely understandable that you missed certain things."

Especially things that Ignis didn't want him to see in the first place. Noctis knew his friend well enough to hear what he didn't say. Ignis had hidden his feelings because he hadn't wanted to add to Noctis' worries. The idiot. As if Noctis wasn't going to worry regardless.

"How can you be so..." Noctis shook his head and sighed. He hadn't started this conversation just to end up arguing with Ignis.

"Just take all the time you need, Specs," he said instead, "I mean it. There's no time table tomorrow. If you're not ready to leave until the afternoon that's fine. If you wanna take the whole day that's okay too."

For a moment, Ignis looked like he wanted to protest.

"I can make it a royal decree if you want," Noctis attempted to preempt any objections.

Ignis let out a quiet huff of laughter as he let his gaze drop to the ground, his arms crossing almost unconsciously.

"Seems you haven't forgotten everything about me after all," he said mildly, a tired smile pulling at his mouth. Noctis couldn't help but smile back.

"I mean it Specs, we could all do with a day off anyway," his smile turned just slightly mischievous, "and I could do with some real sleeping in for a change."

Ignis chuckled lowly. "I suppose I could indulge His Highness for one day."

"You better. And..." Noctis hesitated, he felt so awkward saying this because it sounded so cliche, but he wanted to because he did mean it.

"If there's anything you need, Specs, let us know. We'll be right here."

"I..." Ignis started, then seemed to change his mind and gave a nod. "Thank you."

Noctis smiled. "Good night, Specs."

"Good night, Noct."

Noctis watched as Ignis picked up his bag and carried it to his room. He knew Ignis was likely going to let himself fall apart in there and the idea pained him. He wished he could go with him, to stay by his side the way he had stayed by Noctis'. To help him through this the way he had done for the rest of them, even if he didn't have the first clue how. But he knew Ignis would never accept that. He always worked through these things by himself, that was just who he was. All Noctis could do was give him the space to do so, and be waiting when he came back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the view at the top of the rollercoaster. <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually the first chapter I fully wrote. Everything else was just an excuse to get here. XD

Almost from the moment Ignis closed the door and knew himself to be safely alone, he felt his control starting to slip. It wasn't a conscious choice, really - the sudden absence of a need to keep things hidden from prying eyes simply made something in him let go.

He took a deep breath to steady himself, to fight off the lump in his throat just a little while longer. He couldn't lose himself to the maelstrom of emotions just yet.

He dropped his bag at the foot end of the bed, then closed the curtain of the little window next to the door. It wasn't a large room - just one double bed, a couple of night stands, a small table with a chair, and a bathroom - but it was enough. It was private.

Though he would always protest the need for it, he was grateful for Gladio's stubborn insistence he take a room to himself. And for Noctis explicitly giving him the time off. His sense of duty and responsibility to Noctis were so thoroughly ingrained in him that it was hard not to feel like he was breaking some kind of rule by spending the time on just himself. But having been given 'official' permission did much to dispel that feeling.

He could relax now. He was allowed to.

He shrugged off his jacket and draped it carefully over the back of the desk chair. The lump in his throat was threatening to choke him. He leaned heavily on the chair a moment and breathed carefully, trying to work through it. Not yet. Just a little while longer. He needed to make some preparations first.

He reached into his jacket's pocket and pulled out his phone. He pressed the button on the top until the screen flickered and went black, turning it off. He didn't really want to be out of communication, but it was easier than turning off all of his alarms and then having to turn them back on again. Besides, if they really needed him they knew where his room was. He left the phone on the table.

Tears started pricking in his eyes as he kneeled down to unzip his bag and pulled out his sleeping clothes. He straightened out the crumpled fabric and set the folded clothes carefully on the end of the bed. 

His vision blurred slightly from the tears, his breath higher than it should be. He focused on it and tried again to breathe deeply. Just a few minutes longer. He dove down in his bag again and fished out a few painkillers. He'd need them with the headache he was sure to develop later. 

He sniffed. His nose was getting runny.

He walked to the bathroom, filled a glass with water, and quickly downed the pills. He left the light off. He didn't particularly care to see himself in the mirror right now. 

As he turned around, he felt a tear rolling down his face from his left eye. Then another from his right. He blinked and felt the wet warmth of two more, following their predecessors' exact path. He didn't bother to wipe them away. There was no one to see it, and there were more to come anyway. He focused on his breathing again.

Walking back into the room, he removed his glasses and carefully set them down on the nightstand. He undid the snap buttons on the back of his gloves, slid them off his hands and stacked them neatly next to his glasses. He sat down on the bed heavily, and nearly broke right then. He squeezed his hands into the bedding. Breathe. Nearly there. Just a little longer.

He bent down to untie his shoes. He felt a drop of water hit his hand. More tears. His breath hitched and he let it. It didn't really matter anymore. He kicked off his shoes and stretched his toes before swinging his legs up on the bed. He shuffled backwards until his back was comfortably pressed against the headboard, then after a moment pulled his legs up so he could wrap his arms around his knees. It was childish, but he didn't care. He was alone. No masks to maintain, no pretenses to keep up for someone else's benefit. Freedom.

Ignis lowered his head until his brow rested on his arms, and finally, _finally,_ allowed himself to break.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold on to your hats, darlings. <3

Ignis never did anything by halves. Any task or endeavour he was assigned or chose to undertake, he threw himself into fully, without reserve. He applied all the skills he could until whatever it was was completed (mostly) to his satisfaction. Often he ended up above and beyond what was strictly required, but he prided himself on doing things well.

So now that he finally had a chance to freely grieve, now that he was finally safe and out of view and didn't have the responsibility to be strong for anyone else, he gave himself over to it completely. It was necessary, and long overdue. For too long he'd held it back and pushed it away and strangled it into submission because at least one of them had to. 

Because someone had to keep the cooler head, someone had to keep them all moving forward, keep them from going off on roaring rampages of revenge. Someone had to make sure they were all fed and took their rest and got to their destinations safely. And naturally that someone had been him. It was what he was good at. He wouldn't have accepted it being anyone else.

In a way it had been easier, too, to pretend that nothing was wrong. Far less painful to shunt the grief to the back of his mind and focus on other things instead. But even he couldn't keep that up forever. He knew he couldn't. He knew he shouldn't. But he probably would have tried, anyway, had Gladio not interfered. But he had, and now here he was, in a private space with all the freedom to grieve as needed.

He knew himself well enough to know that facing things like this head on was the best way for him to move forward and have a chance at real peace again. So in that little room in that backwater motel, he allowed his defences to slip, opened the floodgates and let himself be swept away in the torrent of thoughts and emotions, holding nothing back.

Face down on the bed he screamed rage into the pillow when he needed to and choked bitter tears into it when he didn't. Pain and grief squeezed his throat, stifling his breath as if he was pulled under the raging water, moments of despair sharp like angled rocks in his path.

 _Why?_ was the question that kept circling through his mind, sometimes raging, sometimes pleading. _Why did all this have to happen? Why now? Why couldn't everything just have stayed normal? Why do I have to go on without everyone? Why me?_

_Why does everything have to hurt so much?_

It was a childish, useless question, but his mind asked it all the same. Over and over again, knowing there was no real answer.

_Why did all this have to happen?_

_Why couldn't everything just have stayed normal?_

_Why me?_

_Why?_

The words raced and raged until everything ran together in a mindless static, devoid of coherent thought, only raw emotion continuing to pour out of him through the wide open floodgates, twisting and contorting his body and voice into desperate, agonised shapes.

His hands clawed at everything and nothing, curling and uncurling around empty air, covering his face as if to protect it, fisting in his hair and knotting it and pulling at it while he curled in on himself, his whole body tense until he could barely even breathe.

Over time the torrid flood slowed to a stream, his body too tired to do much more than shake as he continued to sob his grief into the pillow. 

Eventually, the stream slowed to a trickle and everything quieted down.

Ignis wasn't sure exactly how long he'd been there, lying on that bed in a half-doze, when he finally felt he was ready to pull himself back together enough to open his eyes and focus on the outside world again. By how dark it was in the room he guessed it had been some time.

He felt exhausted.

But he also felt the beginnings of peace. Even though he was still raw and hurting, there was a quiet in him that hadn't been there for a long time. He'd needed this, more than he'd been willing to admit.

He stirred and the dampness on the pillow suddenly felt acutely uncomfortable.

He pushed himself up and shuffled his feet over the edge of the bed to the floor. His head was throbbing only mildly thanks to the painkillers he'd taken. He reached over to the switch of the light beside the bed, closing his eyes before he pressed it.

Carefully he opened them again, allowing himself time to get used to the light. He glanced to the foot of the bed, where his sleeping clothes still lay, though not quite as neatly as he'd left them.

Slowly he got to his feet, swaying only a little, and padded through the room to the bathroom. He needed to wash his face. It felt hot and tight and the skin around his eyes burned slightly with the salt from his tears.

Again he neglected to turn on the light inside. He still had no particular desire to look at himself as he picked up one of the wash cloths and wet it under the tap. He sighed softly in relief at the coolness of the fresh water against his heated eyes. He took a little longer than was strictly necessary to wipe down his face.

When he finished he let the wet cloth drop carelessly into the sink. He picked up the glass he'd used earlier. Crying was dehydrating and he felt thirsty, so he ended up drinking almost the full glass of water before filling it back up again and carrying it into the room. He placed it carefully on the nightstand, ready for the morning.

With only slightly shaky fingers, he unbuttoned his shirt. He slid it off his shoulders and let it drop on the chair with his jacket. He took a little longer than he should to undo his belt and shimmy out of his trousers. He let them lie where they fell near the foot of the bed, not having the energy to put them away properly.

He carefully unfolded the sleeping clothes on his bed and put them on. They were old and a bit worn but oh so comfortable. His favourite set. One of the few luxuries he'd brought from home.

The bittersweet reminder brought new tears to his eyes. He let them flow as he pulled open the crinkled sheets and crawled underneath them. He turned over the pillow and laid his head down on the fresh, dry side as he curled up and pulled the blankets tight around him.

He made no effort to stop his tears and just let them come as they wished, only moving his head so that they wouldn't wet the pillow too much. He gave in easily to what yet remained of his pain and grief, letting his shoulders shake when they needed to.

He knew he was still far from seeing the end of it. Loss and grief were fickle companions and it would be a long time before he would be rid of them completely, if ever. But he trusted that it would get easier, over time. Everything he knew about grief, and about himself, pointed him to that conclusion and so he held on to it like a lifeline. It would get easier, in time. It had to.

For now, he lay in the small hotel room and wept.

He wept for the home he had lost. For the family he hardly saw and could never see again. For the beautiful ancient buildings that had fallen. For the old and valuable books whose knowledge no one would now remember. For the few friends he'd made and lost, and lost again. For the little stuffed rabbit he'd had since childhood and still kept hidden in the back of the drawer of his nightstand.

Eventually, the tears slowed once more and he finally drifted off into a mercifully dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *patpats poor Iggy on the head*


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what you get when you get a nerd into writing fanfic who actually possesses some coding skills...

The first time Ignis woke up, he blearily opened his eyes just a crack. They felt rough and gritty and altogether unpleasant. He sluggishly twisted his body around and lifted his head until he could see the numbers on the bedside clock light up in the darkness. He blinked slowly until they came into focus.

It was shortly after 6 am, around the time his alarm usually went off.

He closed his eyes and let his head drop back to the pillow. For one of the few times in his life he cursed his body's impeccable internal clock. He untangled the bedsheets and rewrapped them around himself, but it was difficult to get completely comfortable when his mouth was so dry and sticky.

So he pushed himself up just enough that he could carefully reach out to the glass on the nightstand and take a drink without spilling any of the water. Thirst sated for the moment, he settled back in and tried to go back to sleep.

He wasn't really expecting to do more than doze, but at some point he must have nodded off because the next time he opened his eyes the clock said it was a quarter past 8 and daylight was trying to sneak in through the curtains.

He took a moment to examine his state of mind, and decided he felt better than he had the previous night when he'd fallen asleep. Lighter, somehow. He felt almost as if he'd expelled a daemon from his body.

Though at the same time he still felt open and vulnerable. He hadn't yet tried to rein everything back in and button it up inside as he knew he would eventually do.

He allowed himself ample time to wake up fully, waiting for his eyes to stop sticking closed before he climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

He turned on the light and looked at himself in the mirror.

He looked about as wrecked as he had expected. His hair was a complete mess, and his eyes were, even now, ever so slightly puffy and red. Sorrow was etched onto his face. 

Yet somehow he found the corners of his mouth curving up just a little into a tired smile, and the face in the mirror softened into a gentle melancholy.

He closed his eyes as he brushed his teeth. There was no reason to look longer, and besides, it was easier to focus on brushing this way as that mostly happened inside the mouth and couldn't be checked by eye anyway.

In the shower he washed his hair and let the water run soothingly over his face and body for a luxuriously long time. Afterwards he debated whether he should get dressed or slip back into his comfortable sleeping clothes again. In the end he compromised and pulled on a simple T-shirt and a comfortable pair of jeans. He could always change back later if he wanted.

He left his hair unstyled, simply combing it and letting it fall forward where it may. He didn't put on his glasses, either. He didn't feel ready yet to go back to the mask they were part of. And nothing in this small room was far enough away for him to truly need them, at any rate.

Finally, he picked up his phone and held the button to turn it back on again. After it had booted up and connected to the network, it unsurprisingly dinged with a message. He sat down on the bed and tapped on it to open the messenger app.

Prompto Argentum:  
Hey Iggy  
Sooo.... turns out we have your breakfast coupon over here

Of course they did. Ignis checked the time of the message. It had been sent more than half an hour ago. He started typing a response.

You:  
Good morning.  
That's unfortunate news.

It only took a moment for the reply to ding.

Prompto Argentum:  
Hey Iggy you're up!  
Good morning!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ  
How are you doing?

Ignis almost smiled at Prompto's excessively cheerful emoticons.

You:  
I'm doing well, thank you. How are things over there?

Prompto Argentum:  
Well Noct is still sleeping  
He gave us strict orders not to wake him  
up ( ≧Д≦)  
He made an exception for you though  
I can wake him up if you wanna talk to him

You:  
That won't be necessary, let him sleep. He needs it.

Prompto Argentum:  
I'm sure he'd grumble only a little  
Ok  
Well Gladio is out for a run  
I'm going out to get real fast in a fee  
Breakfast in a few  
why ლ( ಠ_ಠ ლ)

A snort of laughter escaped Ignis before he knew it. Prompto's struggles with autocorrect were almost a running joke at this point.

Wanna join me?

Now _there_ was a question. Normally he'd say yes without hesitation, but with the headspace he was currently in he didn't particularly feel like dealing with people face to face, especially not strangers in a greasy diner.

If you don't that's cool too  
I could just slip the coupon under your door

And leave it to Prompto to give a person a graceful out. Even if it was likely as much out of insecurity as it was out of consideration. Ignis wished the boy would be a little more sure of himself. There was really no reason for him not to be.

Or!  
I could bring you the food so you wouldn't have to go out at all!  
If you want  
It would be no trouble at all  
They have takeout boxes I'm sure it would be fine

It was an enticing offer. It was the best of both worlds, in a way. He'd have breakfast, and the only other person he'd have to deal with would be Prompto. However, he always felt extremely awkward asking for anything just for himself. Even today. Even if Prompto had been the one to offer. It simply wasn't who he was. He was the person who did for others, not someone who had others do for him. 

Rationally, of course, he knew that his friends would want to do things for him just as he did for them, because that's what friends are for, but still. It always felt exceedingly selfish to ask. Almost wrong even, like he was breaking a rule of some sort.

Prompto Argentum:  
Iggy?  
Are you there?

Ah. Ignis realised he hadn't actually responded in some time.

You:  
I'm here.  
I am considering your offer.

Prompto Argentum:  
You are?  
Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ  
I promise it's no trouble at all  
Really  
Really really

You:  
You seem terribly excited about this.

Prompto Argentum:  
Do I (;ﾞ°´ω°´)  
Well  
You know how I am  
Excitable, that's me! ｡ﾟ✶ฺ.ヽ(*´∀`*)ﾉ.✶ฺﾟ｡

Prompto seemed somehow very invested in doing this. Unlike Gladio, however, the boy would likely give in without much protest if Ignis declined.

So Ignis did not decline.

You:  
Very well. I accept your offer.

Prompto Argentum:  
You do? (」゜ロ゜)」  
(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ  
So what do you want me to bring you?

Ignis pondered that for a moment.

You:  
A good question.

Ignis was finding it exceedingly difficult to come up with an idea this morning. He wasn't hungry for anything in particular. Or very hungry at all, really. Still, having some kind of breakfast was a good idea.

You know how I feel about the fare there.  
I will trust your judgment.

Prompto may not always adhere to what was healthy but he did know the rules. He'd asked Ignis for advice on more than one occasion. He'd almost certainly bring something acceptable.

Prompto Argentum:  
Really? (」゜ロ゜)」  
Well  
Right then!  
Least unhealthy food in the place it is!  
Prompto Delivery Service is on the job! (≧ω≦)ゞ

Ignis couldn't help but smile. Somehow Prompto had managed to make it seem like Ignis was doing him a favour by letting him do this. It made it a bit easier.

He shut off his phone's screen and put it on the night stand, then got up to gather up the clothes he'd discarded so carelessly last night and put them away properly. They had a few more wrinkles now than he would have liked, but then again they were due for a wash anyway.

He settled back on the bed and made himself comfortable. He was still feeling a bit sluggish, so he closed his eyes and dozed as he waited.

After some time, his phone dinged with another message. He picked it up to take a look.

Prompto Argentum:  
This is a message from Prompto Delivery Service: your food is ready and is on its way! 三 ᕕ( ^o^)ᕗ

Ignis smiled and shook his head. As much as he would publicly deny it, there was something terribly endearing about Prompto's antics.

Within a few minutes, he heard a muffled voice at the door.

"Prompto Delivery Service!"

Ignis slid off the bed and opened the door to find a grinning Prompto carrying two white styrofoam boxes with two lidded cups and a can of Ebony precariously balanced on top. He stepped aside to let him in.

Prompto wasted no time carefully depositing both boxes and the drinks on the table, then reached back to pull a handful of plastic cutlery out of his back pocket and dropped it on the table too.

"Here, this one's yours," he indicated one of the boxes, "at least, I think?" He looked doubtful for a moment.

"Eh, doesn't really matter, I got the same in both anyway," he grinned at Ignis.

Ignis opened the box to find a cup of plain yoghurt, a small container of that rainbow coloured fruity cereal they often had, and something that looked suspiciously like a slightly greasy croque madame. Surprised, he turned to Prompto.

"I wasn't aware they served these at the Crow's Nest."

"Uh, they don't. I asked them to make it special. I know you're not a fan of the greasy food they usually have."

Ignis blinked at this, surprised.

"You... asked them to make this?"

"Yeah, it was kinda awkward, actually," Prompto grinned sheepishly, "The woman had no idea what I was talking about when I mentioned a croque madame, so I had to explain to her how to make it. She seemed to catch on pretty fast though."

Ignis still couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

"You asked them to make this... for me?"

"Uh.. yeah. Was that wrong?" Uncertainty crept into Prompto's eyes and Ignis quickly shook his head to dispel it.

"No, no, of course not. I just... I appreciate it, Prompto, thank you."

Suddenly Ignis found himself fighting tears. He'd asked Prompto to bring him something but he hadn't expected him to go above and beyond like this.

Someone going out of their way to do something special for him, without being asked to... That didn't happen very often, so it always touched him deeply when it did. He didn't usually get so visibly emotional about it so easily, but everything was still very close to the surface this morning.

"It's no problem at all, Iggy," Prompto smiled easily as if he had no idea of the significance of what he just did.

"Right, I'll leave you to it then," he added as he picked up his own food and sorted out one set from the pile of cutlery, before turning back to the door.

"Wait. Stay."

Ignis wasn't one to make decisions on impulse, but the words were out before his brain had fully caught up. And he realised he meant it. He didn't want Prompto to leave just yet. He didn't want to take breakfast alone. He'd done that too many times back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompto's autocorrect actually happened to me irl while I was writing it and it was just too good to not leave it in. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've looked at this chapter so many times I can't tell if it's good or bad anymore. XD But here it is, for better or worse. My longest chapter to date. Enjoy. <3

"Uh, are you sure?"

Prompto had thought the whole point of Ignis taking a room on his own was to be, well, on his own. But now he was inviting Prompto to stay for breakfast?

Ignis blinked. He almost looked kind of surprised by his own words.

"Yes," he said, as if confirming it to himself as much as Prompto, "I'd like you to stay for breakfast."

"Ok, sure, I can stay." Prompto wasn't any less confused, though.

Ignis was being kinda weird this morning. Well, not really 'weird' weird, but very un-Ignis-like.

For starters, he didn't look like himself at all, what with his hair being down and being dressed all casual and no glasses. No glasses! Prompto never thought he'd ever see that.

He kind of felt like he'd just been inducted into a secret club or something. 

It also struck him just how young Ignis looked like this. Without the suits and the hair and the severe glasses he looked like just a kid the same age as Prompto. Which he was, of course. He was only two years older, after all. Prompto had been so shocked when he found that out. He'd thought Ignis was at least 27 or something, if not older.

Also, he was actually being kind of readable today. There was something sad in his eyes that Prompto had never really seen there before. And he looked tired, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Which in a way he kind of had, really. He'd carried _their_ world, and all of them with it.

They'd talked about that a little, last night. How much he did for them. Prompto had argued that they'd been taking him a bit for granted, and to his surprise Noctis and Gladio had easily agreed. So he'd resolved to do nice things for Ignis whenever he could. Getting him to let Prompto bring him breakfast had seemed like the least he could do to repay him. And then while he was at it, it had seemed only natural to try to bring him something he would like better than the usual stuff they had there.

He'd seemed a bit overwhelmed by the fact that Prompto had brought him a custom breakfast though, like he couldn't quite understand it. In fact, for a moment Prompto thought he'd seen tears in his eyes. Which to be honest was a bit worrying because it really wasn't that out of the ordinary and it made Prompto wonder just how often people actually did things like this for Ignis that he'd react like that.

The whole thing had made Prompto feel a bit unsure. He didn't know Ignis like this at all, and he didn't really know what to do in cases like this. But he wanted to help and if Ignis wanted him to stay for breakfast then he was gonna stay and try his best to be good company.

So he put his food back on the table, and then realised the flaw in their plan.

"There's only one chair though," he said. Also it was occupied by Ignis' clothes.

"Ah, so there is."

"It's cool. I can sit on the bed. Or the floor maybe, don't wanna risk spilling stuff on your bed."

Before Prompto was finished talking, Ignis was already off across the room. He opened the built-in closet and pulled the spare blanket off the top shelf, then spread it out on the floor at the foot of the bed.

"Uh, what are you doing?" 

A slightly amused expression appeared on Ignis' face.

"Well, I'd be a rather poor host if I let you sit on the floor by yourself while I was at the table."

"So we're gonna have an inside picnic? Cool!" Prompto enthused and was glad to see Ignis smile in response.

It was so totally not the kind of thing he'd expected of Ignis, but he could roll with it. He gathered the food and drinks and cutlery and brought it all over to the blanket, where Ignis took his box from Prompto's arms and sat down with it cross legged. Prompto followed and installed himself comfortably on the blanket, across from Ignis.

"You know, I remember doing something like this once with my parents when I was little..." it was out before he knew it and he suddenly felt acutely how he missed them. And crap, Ignis' smile was gone and there was that sad look on his face again. He felt so stupid, Ignis had invited him in and it hadn't been two minutes before he was already bringing him down.

He sighed, "Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"No, it's alright," Ignis said softly, and while there was definitely sadness in his eyes, there was also a warmth in them, a fondness, like the way he sometimes looked at Noctis when he thought no one would notice.

"I would... like to hear the story."

"Ok," Prompto said, "then, um. Well, my parents both had the day off at the same time, for once, and we were going to go to the park for a real picnic. I'd been looking forward to it for so long... But of course, it just had to rain like crazy that day and we couldn't go out at all. I was so disappointed."

"Isn't that always the way..." Ignis said a little wryly.

"Heh. Yeah. But it turned out ok because we ended up shoving all the furniture to the side and had our picnic right there in the living room. It was almost as good as the real thing. Maybe even better," Prompto smiled a little, "Because, you know. No bugs!" Prompto tried to grin but it came out a bit lopsided.

Ignis smiled at that, not quite looking at Prompto anymore, but kind of staring wistfully at nothing, lost in thought somewhere. After a few moments, his smile faltered and he looked almost lonely.

"Iggy?"

"Hm?" Ignis looked back at Prompto, shaken out of his thoughts a bit.

"What's up?" He knew Ignis probably didn't like prying but he couldn't help but ask.

Ignis hummed noncommittally. Just when Prompto thought he wasn't going to get an answer, he spoke. "It... occurred to me that I don't really have stories like that of my own parents," he said slowly.

"You never really saw them very often, did you?" 

"No... but I never really missed them."

"Yeah," Prompto said, "I get that."

"You do?" Ignis looked surprised.

"Yeah. Kinda. I mean, I lived with my parents but they were away a lot and I just got used to them not being there, you know?"

Ignis nodded slowly, lost in thought again, that sad look still in his eyes. Then he blinked, breathed in deep and refocused his attention on their food. He picked up the container of rainbow cereal and looked at it critically, reading the ingredients with one eyebrow raised.

"I don't think I have these usually," he remarked, not unpleasantly.

"Uh, yeah, I know," Prompto replied, a little surprised by the sudden change in topic (but also not really because Ignis was clearly wanting to take his mind off all the sad stuff), "They're not exactly as healthy as that muesli stuff you usually take and they're kind of childish, but... I just thought a little rainbow in your breakfast would be nice."

Ignis' calmly questioning gaze was making him nervous. He always kind of felt like Ignis could see right through him, which was part of what made the advisor so intimidating.

"I mean sometimes you gotta eat for your soul, not your body, you know?" he rambled, "Not that you should do that every day, of course, but I think every once in a while it's okay to eat what makes you happy rather than just what's healthy."

He grinned a little sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get all lecturing on you. You probably think it's stupid anyway, you're much more of a health nut than I am..."

"Not at all," Ignis said, a pensive look in his eyes, "I think there is merit to it. I certainly can't deny that this would make a rather more pleasing colour palette in the yoghurt than muesli."

Prompto almost laughed. Only Ignis could make cheap children's cereal in cheap yoghurt sound all classy and high brow.

"I guess," he said with a lopsided grin.

Ignis put the cereal cup back down and took his knife and fork to the improvised croque madame. Prompto watched anxiously as he cut out a bite and brought it to his mouth, hoping he'd like it.

"Is it okay?" he couldn't help asking.

Ignis nodded and hummed his approval, mouth still full and already cutting off another piece.

Relieved, Prompto went to work on his own. He bent down far over the container to minimise the risk of spillage but he managed to drip some of the runny yolk onto the blanket anyway. The plastic cutlery was bendy and awkward to work with (how did Ignis make it look so easy?) so he decided to give up on it. He grabbed the box and held it up to his face as he picked up the loaded toast with his other hand and bit pieces out of it messily. 

The lid of the box obscured his view of Ignis which he felt was kinda rude so he turned it a little, to find that Ignis was giving him that familiar look of mild disapproval that he would get whenever he thought Prompto's manners were lacking. Prompto had long since stopped paying that any mind and just shrugged at him in response. Like it mattered how he was eating when there was no one else around.

To his surprise, Ignis actually smiled, with his lips pressed together like he was suppressing a laugh even, as he looked back down to his own food. Definitely very un-Ignis-like. But also Prompto was kind of glad to see him smiling.

He made short work of the remainder of the toast (it was good, but not as good as when Ignis made it) and then moved on to the cereal.

"You know, they get that a lot," Prompto said as he picked up the cereal cup and tore it open.

"Hm?" Ignis looked up at him, confused.

"People asking to take their food back to their room," he clarified, "it happens a lot apparently." He opened the yoghurt and started dumping the yoghurt into the cereal cup (he'd tried it the other way around once but it had turned into a huge mess because the yoghurt cups turned out to be way too small).

"Not so much people asking for off the menu foods though," he added, "That's pretty unusual. Well, they get people complaining about why don't they have this or that food sometimes, but she usually just blows them off."

Prompto carefully stirred the yoghurt through the cereal, trying not to spill any. Even though the cereal cup was bigger, it was still a tight fit. He looked up to see Ignis taking a sip of Ebony before picking up his own yoghurt.

"She made what I wanted though," he continued, "because I asked nicely, she said. And she thinks freckles are cute, apparently."

He was rambling again, he knew, so he shut himself up by stuffing a spoonful of yoghurt cereal in his mouth. He felt his face grow hot at the memory. It had been so embarrassing to have that greasy diner lady flirting with him. It wasn't that she was bad looking, but she was just so much older than him. And also he wasn't used to being flirted with at all.

He glanced up at Ignis to find him slowly stirring his own cereal with kind of an absentminded look on his face. Prompto felt acutely unsure again about choosing that for Ignis. He'd sort of said it was okay but who said he hadn't changed his mind?

"Iggy?" Prompto asked awkwardly.

"Hm?" Ignis looked up at him like he'd been startled out of some deep thought. He looked a bit sad again. Maybe the childish cereal had reminded him of something? Prompto cringed internally at the thought. He didn't want to make Ignis feel worse. Again.

"Is... everything ok?" 

"Oh... yes... I just..." Ignis shook his head. "I wanted to thank you again for the food, Prompto, it's wonderful."

Somehow Prompto got the idea that that wasn't what he'd been thinking about at all. But he didn't ask more. Ignis would probably only get annoyed if he did, and really, there was no reason to pry. He stuffed more cereal into his mouth.

When he was done with the cereal, Prompto dropped the empty cup in the box and shifted to lean his back against the foot of the bed. His thoughts went back to the indoor picnic he'd had with his parents. He'd totally spilled food on that blanket, too. But they hadn't minded. That's what laundry is for, they'd said.

"You wanna know a stupid thing I miss about home?" he found himself saying. He glanced over at Ignis who was just putting a spoon of cereal in his mouth. Prompto leaned his head back against the bed and stared at the wall opposite.

"My Steel Samurai bedspread," he continued, "I was crazy about that show when I was little, I wanted everything from it, all the action figures and backpacks and every random bit of merch I could find. But my parents never had a lot of money so I never got anything."

He heard more than saw Ignis putting away his empty cereal cup and shift to sit back against the bed next to him.

"And then one year they gave me the bedspread for my birthday," he babbled on, "and it was just the greatest thing ever. I was just the happiest kid alive, I loved that thing so much."

He smiled a little at the memory.

"I haven't actually used it for years, because you know, it's kid sized, but I always had it in my closet because I just couldn't get rid of it."

He shook his head. "I really miss it sometimes. It's stupid, I know. But, well, that's me I guess."

"It's not stupid," Ignis replied.

"No?"

Ignis was silent for a while. He looked down at the empty food containers almost awkwardly. Prompto got the sense that he was having some kind of internal debate. Like he was wanting to say something but wasn't sure what or how or if he should at all.

"There was..." Ignis began eventually, then hesitated before starting again. "When I was a child, I had a small stuffed rabbit toy. It was one of the few things I brought with me when they moved me to the Citadel."

Prompto knew Ignis had been at the Citadel since he was young but he hadn't really thought about what that meant. Suddenly he pictured a small green eyed boy, alone, clutching a small fluffy toy in his arms.

"I've kept it all these years," Ignis continued, "Hidden in the back of the drawer in my night stand. It was... nice to know it was there."

Ignis became quiet again, like he'd run out of steam. But something in his face told Prompto he wasn't done yet. There was more to this story.

"What did it look like?" he gently prodded. 

"It was small," Ignis responded, "no bigger than my hand. And dark blue, with the tail and the inside of the ears white. It's an unusual colour for a toy rabbit but that's why I liked it. I've never seen any other like it. I believe it may have been custom made."

Prompto had never thought about toys being custom made, but it made sense. He didn't know much about Ignis' family other than that he rarely visited them, but he did know they had money.

"I haven't taken it out in years," Ignis continued, "haven't even looked at it in months. I'm not entirely certain why I miss it now. I only know I regret not bringing it."

Ignis ran a hand across his face and through his hair in a tired gesture that Prompto had never really seen him do before. He looked sad. Heavy. Yeah, this was definitely Ignis with his guard down. And he'd let Prompto in to see it. Definitely a secret club. He vowed to work hard to deserve his membership.

"The things you miss, huh..." he said, "I guess you never really know until they're gone."

"Indeed," Ignis replied softly, and Prompto thought he might have been tearing up a little. He didn't pry further.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, and for once Prompto didn't feel a pressing need to fill it with talk. It was just... nice. Peaceful. Like Ignis' quietness was rubbing off on him.

"You'd best get back," Ignis said suddenly, startling Prompto a bit, "before Gladio returns and attempts to wake up Noct."

"He left us orders not to, though."

Ignis looked at him with one eyebrow raised.

"You _have_ met Gladio, haven't you?"

Prompto thought about it for a moment. 

"...You're right. Noct is gonna kill him." Prompto got up quickly. Ignis gathered the empty containers and the cutlery before he followed, and Prompto realised he was leaving Ignis with the mess.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Don't worry about it," Ignis said mildly but in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Uh, yeah, ok," Prompto said awkwardly as he made his way to the door, "Well, I guess I gotta go." 

"Prompto..." 

Prompto halted and looked back, hand already on the door handle.

"Thank you for joining me," Ignis said, looking at him with that sad yet fond expression and Prompto got the distinct impression that he meant more than just the breakfast.

"Thanks... for inviting me in," Prompto replied, trying to make it sound as sincere as possible so that Ignis knew he wasn't referring to just the food either. Ignis seemed to understand. He nodded his head as he smiled, small, tired, but genuine.

Ignis was not as okay as he'd pretended to be. But he seemed a little better than before. And as long as they stuck together, he would eventually be okay again. They all would. Prompto was sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for sticking with me. Thanks for reading, kudoing, commenting, everything. <3 There's only a little bonus chapter left. After that I'll stop bothering y'all. ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok my final final chapter, for reals. XD Do I still need to put spoilers for Altissia? Anyway this is set around that time and it's totally self indulgent. XD

Ignis lay sprawled on the bed, dozing under the influence of his cocktail of painkillers, when he heard a knock on the door. 

"Yes?" he called out, and the door opened. Shaking off the mild grogginess, he listened intently to the footsteps and other noises of the person coming in. He'd requested that people didn't identify themselves immediately to give him a chance to learn to recognise his companions by their sound alone.

The footsteps were light, fast and slightly uneven. The knock on the door had been light but insistent.

"Prompto?" he asked.

He could hear the smile in the younger man's voice as he spoke.

"Prompto Delivery Service brings you a gift."

Now there was a term he hadn't heard in a long time. He pushed himself up into a seated position, ignoring the momentary lightheadedness and queasiness the movement brought. At least the painkillers were doing their job. He could deal with their side effects.

"What is it?"

"A surprise. Hold out your hands."

Ignis' doubt must have shown on his face because Prompto chuckled and added: "Don't worry, it's harmless. Trust me."

So Ignis held out his hands. He felt something light and fuzzy being placed in them. He curled his fingers around it and started to explore the shape. It was slightly smaller than his hand, the surface was furry. It was somewhat oval shaped. There were... four, no, five stubby protrusions on one side, one more fuzzy than the others. A bead, two beads embedded in the fur near the pointed end. Two long pieces of the furry fabric extended from the....

A sharp intake of breath as Ignis realised what it was.

A rabbit. A small, furry, toy rabbit.

One hand flew to cover his mouth as tears pricked in his eyes.

"Its body is white," Prompto spoke gently, describing what he couldn't learn by his fingers, "its eyes are black, the ears and tail are yellow. Her name is Sunshine and I promised you'd take good care of her."

Ignis found himself unable to speak, too overwhelmed by the tiny little furry thing and all that it meant. That Prompto would bring him this, of all things, now, when he was at his lowest... When he needed it most. 

Prompto had remembered, all this time. He was the only one Ignis had ever told, there on that strange, unguarded morning that had been the start of their deeper friendship. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.

He was grateful for that friendship, now more than ever. With Noctis still asleep and Gladio all but glued to his side, busy stewing in anger and guilt, Prompto had been the one to step up and help tend to Ignis and his injuries. Through all his pain and grief and frustration, Ignis knew he was far from the easiest patient to deal with, yet Prompto persisted nonetheless. Even when Ignis had shouted him out of the room, he'd simply come back the next day and waved away his apologies.

"Because we're friends," he'd said matter-of-factly when Ignis had asked him why.

He couldn't stop a tear spilling down his cheek as he held the little rabbit and almost unconsciously stretched his fingers so that the ears ran between them. He hadn't done that in many years but the familiar old gesture was calming, the feeling of the fluffy fabric soothing his senses. The little fluff toy fit in his hand as if it were made to.

"Where," he managed eventually, his voice sounding thicker than he would have liked, "How did you get this?"

The bed dipped as Prompto sat down on the edge. Ignis moved his legs to give him more space, and he felt the other man settle back carefully.

"I was out by the refugee center," Prompto spoke quietly, "and I saw this little girl and her mother carrying a huge basket full of stuffed toys. I asked them if they needed help and the mother told me the girl wanted to donate them to all the kids who lost their homes in the attack." 

He took few moments to continue. When he did, his voice sounded a little thick. 

"It's always so amazing, isn't it? How many good people come out of the woodwork, just doing what they can to help after a disaster." Ignis nodded mutely, still absentmindedly running the little rabbit's ears through his fingers. _Yes. Like you,_ he thought, but couldn't say the words.

"Anyway," Prompto went on, "She, uh, the girl had this little rabbit in her hands, and I told her it was cute and that my friend used to have one like it. She was so sweet." Ignis could hear the smile in his voice. "She asked what happened to it. I told her it was lost when Insomnia was attacked. Before I knew it she was shoving it into my hands and making me promise to take good care of it."

"A remarkable child," Ignis whispered, his voice rough and cracking, "I do hope you thanked her."

"Of course I did, I made sure to let her know how awesome she was for doing that."

"Good. And... thank you."

"Anytime."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading. <3


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